Chicken Dinner

Right before we left for church this afternoon, I put a chicken in the oven to roast while we were gone. I was in a hurry, so I wasn't going to do anything fancy. Just open the package, put the chicken in a baking dish, and get on out the door. I was stopped in my tracks when I found that the chicken's head was still on~ eyes tightly closed, limp necked, with a pale, flesh-colored beak. I did not know the head was there when I bought it, as it was tucked under the body. And I had purchased the chicken at my beloved City Shop, the import store with all the wonderfully familiar products. But chicken with their heads still on aren't part of the 21st century American Mid-west experience.

Now in Shanghai, I see whole, limp chickens in the Chinese grocery stores and markets all the time. I have occassionally seen whole plucked chickens hanging from a light post on the street, awaiting something. I have seen live chickens for sale on the sidewalk, tied to the sellers bike basket by their feet. But never, ever, have I had a chicken with its head on in my kitchen. I think I may have screamed a little when I saw it.

But remember, I was in a hurry. So I grabbed the kitchen shears, cut off the head, threw it in the kitchen garbage can, and put the chicken in the oven. I shivered slightly as I did the deed, but heck, I have given birth, surely I can cut off a chicken's head. I just tried not to look at it too closely.

Fast forward to this evening, when we arrived home from church and were preparing to eat the chicken. It was beautifully cooked, golden brown and moist looking. As Scott began to cut it up for serving, he discovered a little surprise inside the chicken that I had missed when I was hurredly getting it in the oven earlier. The feet. Neatly tucked inside the cavity of the bird were both feet, complete with little claws. Just in case one would want them, there they were, carefully saved, just in case.

I don't think I'll be needing them.